


what angel wakes me from my flow'ry bed?

by jingsino



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, i have cavities from writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8906866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jingsino/pseuds/jingsino
Summary: Up this close, Yuuri can see each of Viktor’s light eyelashes, how some cross over or are a bit more curled than the others. He wants to kiss the faint wrinkles until they’ve smoothed over temporarily, feel the strong muscles from years of practice beneath his skin. He wants to spend an eternity exploring Viktor, learning the little things that make him so perfect to Yuuri.He’s so in love.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this was super nice to write after a long period of utter writer's block haha. forgive me, it's not proofread or beta-ed or anything, i just smashed a bunch of keys and...this came out. enjoy(?)

Yuuri feels something breathing on his cheek.

“You’re so cute when you sleep,” Viktor coos. His head is propped up by his elbow as he lays on his side, facing Yuuri.

“Stop watching me when I sleep,” Yuuri mumbles, barely awake. A sleepy smile plays at his lips.

Viktor pouts. He huffs and rolls over to drape half of his body over the younger man. “No fun!” he exclaims. “Yuuri, Yuuri, Yuuri.”

His smile only grows. He’s kind of addicted to the way his name sounds from Viktor’s lips.

“What?” He tries to open his eyes, but only manages to get them halfway open before giving up and snuggling even closer to Viktor. “Warm,” he mumbles.

Viktor is silent, save for his steady breathing and the rustle of the blankets as he repositions himself. Yuuri feels the warmth pulling away from his face and moans in protest. “Come back.”

“Open your eyes.”

“Sleepy.”

“Yuuri…”

He finally does so, but only because he’s so _weak_ when Viktor breathes his name like that. As soon as he sees Viktor, the quiet affection in his heart swells. He holds himself carefully over Yuuri with one arm, the other hovering over his jaw, as if waiting for permission. Yuuri wants to pull him closer until he can’t tell which heartbeat is his, but he waits instead.

Viktor always goes on and on about how he absolutely _must_ preen before a mirror in order to present himself properly, but Yuuri thinks his beauty is amplified in the private moments like this. His silver hair looks even softer under the young rays of the morning light, and his blue eyes never fail to beckon his mind out of their sleepy haze. There’s no hiding his faint wrinkles, like the laugh lines by his mouth, or his occasionally less than perfect complexion when he overworks himself and wakes up with dull eyebags. He’s not the clear cut marble statue Yuuri had admired from afar for years, and it makes the love he feels so much more _special_ and _real_.

Yuuri lifts his head, allowing his cheek to brush against Viktor’s fingers. His breath still catches when they touch. “Morning,” he says.

Viktor starts to trace patterns on his skin. “Morning,” he says back.

He sighs and melts against Viktor. His eyebrow twitches when he realizes what Viktor is doing. “Figure eights? Really?” He puckers his lips to the side, trying to disrupt whatever compulsory figures Viktor is drawing next.

Instead of answering, Viktor pulls back the arm supporting him and drops his full body weight on Yuuri. “Morning!” he cheerily repeats, seemingly oblivious to the damage he is wreaking on the other man’s lungs.

Yuuri gasps and squirms from beneath him, limbs flailing wildly. “Vik _tor_!” he whines, eyes screwed shut again.

There’s a brief struggle between them before they give up. If Yuuri wasn’t awake before, he is now. He pouts and turns his head, a vain attempt at hiding the flush across his cheeks. Viktor tries to blow raspberries against his neck, which he pointedly ignores.

“You’re so cute,” Viktor says as the raspberries turn into soft kisses.

“Ngh.” Yuuri refrains from shivering when he lips press against his pulse. “You are.”

He pauses. “I’m what, Yuuri?” Even without looking, he already knows Viktor is waggling his eyebrows.

“Cute,” he acquiesces. Yuuri blinks, and there are hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look Viktor in the eye.

“You’re cuter,” Viktor states with utter seriousness. His brows furrow together, as if the thought that anyone could be cuter than his boyfriend is of the gravest nature.

Yuuri wriggles his arm free and pokes at the wrinkle between his brows. “I take it back.” Viktor’s face turns grey at this betrayal. “If you keep making these faces, you’re _definitely_ not cute.”

“Because I’m handsome, right?”

“Eh. Sometimes.”

“Lying is a _sin_ , Yuuri.” Viktor pouts and presses their foreheads together.

Up this close, Yuuri can see each of Viktor’s light eyelashes, how some cross over or are a bit more curled than the others. He wants to kiss the faint wrinkles until they’ve smoothed over temporarily, feel the strong muscles from years of practice beneath his skin. He wants to spend an eternity exploring Viktor, learning the little things that make him so perfect to Yuuri.

He’s so in _love_.

“I like to look at you,” Yuuri blurts out. “You’re so beautiful. I can’t believe you’re real.”

Viktor’s eyes have brightened. He pulls Yuuri, repositioning them so they’re on their sides, facing each other. “I’m very real, I assure you,” he teases as he caresses Yuuri’s waist lightly.

Yuuri’s breath catches. He has to swallow before he can speak again. “It’s not just that, it’s also…” His cheeks heat up, but he continues. “You chose me. Me.”

Viktor blinks. “I chose you?”

“Yeah.” Yuuri’s eyes shift downward, and his head begins to follow. Fingers tap his chin, so he forces himself to regain eye contact. “You make me feel so _special_ and _warm_ everyday. I’m so happy.” Their noses bump. “I’m so happy, Viktor.”

His boyfriend sighs. It sounds so content and relaxed. He wants to hear it everyday, for the rest of his life. “Yuuri…” he starts.

They both lean forward.

The second their lips touch, Yuuri melts. He loves kissing Viktor, almost as much as he loves Viktor himself. There’s no worrying about messing up, because Viktor is kind and loving and gentle when he needs to be, and he gives as much as he takes until Yuuri is breathless and overwhelmed with need. It should be scary, baring so much of himself to one person, but he trusts Viktor beyond anything else in this word. He isn’t afraid of falling when Viktor’s love is engulfing him, giving him the wings he needs to _soar_.

Yuuri reluctantly pulls away. He waits for Viktor to say something, and the wait isn’t long because as soon as their lips part, Viktor is holding his jaw and whispering, “I love you, I love you, _I love you_.”

“I love you, too!” he tries to interject, but the effect is mitigated by Viktor dipping his head forward for another kiss. It’s just as rich as the first time, and the second time, and every other time they’ve stolen a kiss from each other. Viktor doesn’t hold back in anything he does, which definitely includes kissing, as Yuuri has learned. He does little things like pulling away a centimeter, not quite separating, only to press multiple shorter, gentler kisses in succession. Sometimes he leaves his lips to trail down his jaw, his neck, before returning with even more desire than before. Now, he moves his attention to his cheeks, his forehead, showering him with affection. Yuuri feels so _loved_ , he doesn’t understand how he lived without Viktor’s attentions before.

The kisses slow to a stop. Viktor raises his hand to Yuuri’s cheek and begins to trace figure eights again.

“I never _chose_ to love you, Yuuri,” he starts. Yuuri’s heart jumps to his throat for a second; he isn’t breaking up with him is he? He isn’t going to take back all the ‘I love you’s, all the kisses and hugs and tears and trust?

The panic must be clear on Yuuri’s face, because Viktor leans forward and kisses his nose with a “Mwah!” Yuuri blushes and does the same to Viktor, although his “Mwah” is more subdued.

“You pulled me in,” he elaborates, a soft smile on his face. “It wasn’t a matter of yes or no. I couldn’t have stopped it, even if I wanted to.”

The flush on Yuuri’s face deepens. “That’s how I feel,” he agrees. “It feels natural. I can’t imagine not loving you.”

“Well, good!” Viktor’s arms pull him close, holding his head beneath his chin. He is surrounded by his warm, loving presence, and he feels nothing but gratitude. There’s a pause before he continues.

“And, Yuuri…”

“Viktor?” He hesitates, then directs his gaze up. Viktor’s eyes are closed, his lips are curved slightly.

“If I had to choose, I would still choose you. Every time.” He snuggles closer to Yuuri.

Yuuri murmurs a small, “Oh,” before nuzzling into Viktor’s chest. “Me too.”

He falls asleep again, feeling the comforting certainty of Viktor’s breath on his head.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @dadlover123 if you wanna talk about these gays ヾ(❛ε❛“)ʃ


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